Four old friends
Dead of winter small town
Germany.
Smoke rising from chimneys
From cigarettes, and pipes
From trains riding the rural rails
From city spires
And factories
From airplanes
Airplanes
and Airplanes,
From Airplanes.
Smoke dancing and laughing
Stinging and coughing
Smoke in my hair and jacket
In the pores of my skin
Smoke in my eyes,
Up the hill
And through the woods
Dead of winter
Small town Germany
Four old friends
Walk two by two
Three by one
Four and four.
Walk by the church,
Down the creek,
Up the hills, the hills
And through the woods
Small town
Germany four old friends
Dead of winter
Cigar smoke and beer
Cigarillos in a chain
Smoke from crystalizing breath
And fireworks
Smoke from bonfires
And tailpipes
Smoke from airplanes
Airplanes and airplanes
Smoke from airplanes.
Smoke stains and cigarette burns
Little circles in my jacket
Germany
Four old friends dead of winter
Small town
Smoke tears
Smoke promises
Smoke memories that linger
Like the faint nausea
Of what-the-hell-has-happened.
I watch the **** end of your last cigarette
Crumpled and fading
In the ashtray of that Badischer bar
And your eyebrow twitched
The heart-wrenching shiver
Of what-the-hell-has-happened.
And I whispered:
(airplanes)
airplanes and airplanes
I whispered airplanes.
That’s what the hell.

I read your poem of a few days ago
And yes I was amazed at your command of language
BUT
Is that really what we want for this site
Honestly I don't think so
I don't detract from your ability in any way
But being a simple person I probably understood
About one word in three
I view this site as a venue where writers of all abilities
Can post their work and be judged fairly by their peers
You are a great supported of Carvo
And he has the right to express his views
Despite the fact that WE the MAJORITY find them offensive
In short allow us the MAJORITY to decide on what we like
Allow us to hit the like button
Allow us to be us and do not mock
The ability of us, the average writer
Do not measure us against your own ability

I'm laying my ragged twisted
       insides in the ground
   Mourning the death
           As if my soul has gone to hell
    And my heart
             Has died slowly
      And painfully
   But my body
         Is still here
   But hollow and black
        Through and though
Just flowing through
         The paces
   Just waiting for **death

Everyday come
                             Fill me
Reflect off of me, please
                             Days go by
                             Day after day
You used to worship me.
                             Worship my truth.
You came to me like a
                               sinner and
                               spilled all
of your secrets in
                                        me.
I reflect my truth faithfully
                                         back at you.
And you act
                      like i'm
*hell

Within
A realm of fantasy
My mind it takes control
Painting pictures
Photographs
Prepared within the soul

Imagination
Plays its hand
Cautions cast the style
What I see
Is what I am
And will be for a while

Perception
Leads a blinded eye
To where the path begins
For the moment
I shall wait
Right here so deep within

Too many times
I've been pushed aside
     On the back burner
My whole **** life
         But I wanna be the fire
   That lights your soul
I want a raging, blazing
         Inferno
      Sparking flames
Making changes
        In the chemistry
   A little oxygen
       So I can breathe
A lot of hydrogen
     So you can believe
We're floating on air
        Particles you can't see
      Like love
It's a mystery
            A theory
   Of who's meant to be
And who's left suffering
         That's destiny
     I'm creating
Breaking
     Changing the flames
   Into ashes
And graves
      With no names
Just broken hearts
          On tombstones
     And no chance
*To restart